


The Other Side

by The_White_Rabbit42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Edging, F/M, Fingering, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Multiple Orgasms, NSFW, Oral Sex, Secret Affair, Sleeping with the enemy, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 13:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17899133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: Survival wasn’t all there was to life in the apocalypse, and you were lucky enough to understand this.





	The Other Side

**Author's Note:**

> Currently framed as a oneshot with the door open for a potential series if the muse ever demands.

_ You hated using the tunnels.  They always felt cold, unnaturally so, and smelled the way you imagined a tomb would: damp, earthy, filled with stagnant air and the ever present possibility of entrapment.  It wasn’t that you were claustrophobic, so much as you  _ **_really_ ** _ disliked the idea of being put beneath the ground.  Especially alone.  _

 

_ They were the only way to get in and out of the colony unnoticed, however, and discretion was key.  Mostly because Bobby might blow a gasket if he knew just how often you left on your own, not to mention the aneurysm he'd get when he found out the reason behind it. _

 

_ Thankfully, the passageway you needed was short, and before you knew it, a fresh breeze was once again nipping at your cheeks.  The barest whisper of something trickled across your senses as your feet guided you down the path, causing the cool night air to fill your lungs at a faster rate.   _

 

_ Your pulse lost its steady rhythm, and you stopped dead in your tracks.  Your head tilted slightly, your instincts kicking into overdrive, but your hand never drew the blade on which it rested.  You were far from alarmed, even as the rustle of wings sounded directly behind you.  _

 

_ “You know, if I was one of my brother _ **_s,_ ** _ you’d be dead right now…”  _

 

“You know, if I was anyone else, you’d spend the rest of your morning in the principal's office for misuse of emergency exits.” 

 

The early morning sun blinded you, making it impossible to see the figure waiting for you just outside the tunnel doors.  Exhaustion clung to your mind, preventing the familiar voice from registering. You whirled, unsheathing your blade, your muscles readying to strike.  

 

Recognition override your adrenaline at the sight of your best friend’s face.  

 

“Jesus, Wes!” You clutched the weapon to your chest, as if  _ that _ would calm the frantic beating of your heart.  “That’s a good way to get yourself stabbed.”

 

“Is that anyway to greet someone bearing gifts?”  He asked, immediately holding up an old, faded travel mug.  You pursed your lips, tucking away your blade as you tried to even out your breathing.  You were relieved  _ he _ was the one catching you sneaking back in over the fact he’d prepared a peace offering.  

 

Your eyes flicked down, curiosity brimming.    “I suppose it would be awfully ungrateful not to accept.”  Wryness lifted both your tone and the corner of your mouth as you took the mug from his hands.

 

“If I were you, I’d drink up.  Bobby’s been waiting for you since dawn.”  

 

_ Shit.   _ You’d forgotten you’d asked to meet with him.  

 

You glanced over to find an odd look on your friend’s face.  

 

“What?” You resisted the urge to glance down the front of you and make sure nothing was compromised.  You continued to hold his stare, noticing there was something different about it, something you were too tired to tease out. 

 

_ There was more to Gabriel’s presence tonight.  More tension, perhaps. More energy. Or maybe there was just more of him.  It carried over into his touch, that something extra feeling awfully possessive as he grabbed you by the waist.   _

 

_ “Since I know you’re not stupid, I can only assume you either have something terribly wrong with your sense of self-preservation, or maybe, just maybe, you somehow knew it was me...” _

 

_ It wasn’t quite suspicion that colored his tone, but you also wouldn’t call it concern.  What was concerning to  _ **_you_ ** _ , however, was how guarded he was. It was as if something was brewing inside him, something that was strong enough to churn everything he kept buried up toward the surface.   _

 

_ “I’m having a torrid love affair with my mortal enemy…which do  _ **_you_ ** _ think it is?” You said dryly, hoping some humor might help diffuse whatever was going on.  _

 

_ “Hmmmm.”  He sounded less than convinced, but as his hands slipped beneath your jacket, his focus shifted.  Fingertips teased tiny circles along your skin, sending small sparks of excitement through your system.   _

 

_ You held your breath, concentrating on him and only him; the feel of his touch, the heat of his chest on your back, the way he smelled of different air and clean rain, suggesting he had come from someplace much further away.  He was your escape, and you wanted nothing more than to become lost in him.  _

 

_ You felt yourself slipping away as he traced the tip of his nose down behind your ear, his breath unfurling warmly against the shell of it.   _

 

_ “Close your eyes and open your mouth,” he ordered.  You were tempted to make a remark, but that little extra edge to him had you doing what you were told.  He placed something small and square on top of your tongue, and it only took a moment for a delectable combination of sugar and cocoa to soar across your taste buds. _

 

_ “Oh  _ — _ ” _

 

“—  _ God _ , this - is this…” You stared at Wesley, wide-eyed.  “Where the  _ hell _ did you find whiskey?”  The look you pinned him with really said  _ who did you have to kill for this? _

 

“Thought you’d like that,” he grinned, patting you on the shoulder before passing you.  You stared at his back a few seconds, your brain unable to comprehend the magnitude of his gift.  It took a few moments to recover, and you were thankful he was in front of you as you awkwardly shuffled to catch up. 

 

_ Your moan was as decadent as the long lost flavor spreading inside your mouth. _

 

_ “... you like that?”  He murmured, nuzzling along the side of your neck as he allowed you time to savor the surprise.    _

 

_ You couldn’t remember the last time you had real chocolate.  Candy, sweets, anything without real nutritional value was overlooked once the fighting began.  Then, once everyone realized this was really the end, treats became so uncommon they surpassed the value of gold and silver.  In some places, they had become the only valuable piece of currency. _

 

_ Now they were as rare as toilet paper, and you couldn’t believe the things people were willing to do for a chocolate bar. _

 

_ “What would you do for one?”  Insinuation danced through his tone, and you finally turned around to greet him properly.  What you saw, however, had you stilling.  _

 

_ Gabriel’s eyes glimmered in a kaleidoscope of sentiments and colors.  Greens and golds vied for dominance against a backdrop of heat. He was beautiful.  Breathtaking. Perhaps one of the few truly magnificent things left in this world.  _

 

_ And for whatever reason, he found you deserving of his time.   _

 

“I can’t - this is too much,” you insisted, holding the cup back up to him.  “I don’t deserve this.” 

 

Wes might have been your closest friend, but things like this went beyond  _ bestie  _ status.  If anything, you should have been procuring  _ him _ impossible items for looking out for you. 

 

Especially when he had to know whatever you were doing outside the colony was at least seven shades of questionable if not outright forbidden.  

 

He glanced sideways at you, and your brows pulled together beneath his scrutiny.  You still weren’t able to get a pulse on him, which was strange. Normally, you could both tell where each others’ heads were at.

 

“Oh, don’t worry, there are strings attached,” he informed you.  “You’d think if we took anything from the military, it’s that the whole  _ don’t ask, don’t tell  _ method doesn’t really work worth shit.”

 

You footsteps froze, your entire system lurching to a stop with them.  “Wesley…” 

 

You didn’t want to lie to him.  You weren’t certain you could after all you’d been through together, but most of all, you didn’t want him to share the burden of your secrets.

 

As if sensing the weight behind things, his hands shot up in surrender.  “You don’t have to tell me. In fact, the less I know right now, the better.”

 

It wasn’t hard to read between the lines.  He was catching flak about you. Then again, when wasn’t he?

 

“You just need to promise me you’ll come back.”  He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly.  The contact combined with a stare that was far more direct than usual had you floundering.  

 

Unsure of what to do with his concern, you went straight to your family's specialty.

 

“If bribery of this caliber doesn’t convince me to, nothing will.”  You slipped your arm through his, tugging him away from the main path and diverting your course toward a secluded hill that ran along the edge of the colony.  

 

_ You never knew how to handle these moments.  It was never easy seeing Gabriel for what he was.  It only reminded you how completely different you were.   _

 

_ He was infinite, whereas you were nothing, an insignificant speck on the cosmic timeline that would eventually fade away.  You never felt worthy, even if it only came down to him needing a body with which to find pleasure.  _

 

_ His eyes suddenly narrowed, and your forehead wrinkled down the center.  It wasn’t until you blinked that you realized what the problem was. A drop of moisture slipped past the confines of your lashes, slowly trickling down your cheek.   _

 

_ You didn’t understand how he could move you to such emotions so quickly when you spent most of your days struggling just to feel.  It was just another bewildering piece to the enigma that was Gabriel.  _

 

_ “What have I told you about that?” He chided, a juxtaposition of hard and soft forming between the disapproving look on his face and the gentle way he brushed away the streak with his knuckles.   _

 

“What have I told you about going AWOL?”  Bobby scolded, not bothering to turn around from his place at the edge of the overlook.  You moved next to him, taking a large swallow from your mug as you avoided the cantankerous side-eye he sent you.  

 

No wonder Wes had opted to wait for you at the bottom of the hill.  There was more bear than man present this morning. 

 

You knew better than to jump straight into anything when Bobby was like this, and you took some time to admire the view of the colony.  Everything seemed ordinary on the surface. People ambled through the center, going about their business. The previous bustle had slowed, and the bodies weaving in and out of the structures took on an ambling, weighted shuffle.

 

His stare eventually settled on you, lips pulling thin with appraisal.  “You look like this is the last place you need to be.” 

 

“I’m fine.”  It was an automatic answer, a mistake, one you didn’t realize until his gaze intensified.  “I didn’t get much sleep.”

 

You knew it was better to give him something rather than stonewall him, and you hoped the amendment was enough to appease him.

 

“We have everything we need for it and then some: beds, linens, walls, protection… and yet it always seems to be one of the things shortest in supply.”  He paused, his eyes scanning the grounds some more before he continued. “You still haven’t said where you were.”

 

_ You burst through the door to the supply shed, wincing as a thunderous crack echoed through the valley.  It was the third time this year you’d damaged something. Bobby was going to be  _ **_so_ ** _ pissed.  _

 

_ “Gabri-mmph,” his lips smothered yours, cutting off your protest.   _

 

**_Shhh_** _you heard his voice in your mind._ ** _You want to alert the whole neighborhood we’re out here?_**

 

_ His mouth released yours, allowing you a brief reprieve for your burning lungs.  An infuriating smile pressing against your skin as he teased his way down along your collarbone.  His hands fisted the sides of your shirt, and you wished you’d remembered to fix the zipper on your jacket.  The last thing you needed was to have to explain why you were traipsing around at the end of winter missing vital layers.   _ **_Again._ ** __

 

_ “Fuck you,” you breathed, your fingers weaving through his long, wavy strands of hair.  When he lunged for your throat, hungrily devouring your skin with teeth and tongue, you tugged in an attempt to keep him focused.    _

 

_ An amused, albeit dark, chuckle rumbled in the back of his throat.  “That’s the plan, sweets.”  _

 

_ He captured your lips again, reigning in his ardor as he nudged you back through the small building.  You stumbled over piles of wood, scrap metal, broken pieces of furniture that might yet still serve a purpose, and you had to cling to him just to remain upright.    _

 

_ Your luck eventually ran out, and your foot finally hit something that refused to give, sending you tumbling backwards so quickly even he wasn’t able to stop it.  Pain flared along your spine, and once your surprise wore off you realized you’d fallen against an old bookcase.  _

 

_ It was as good a spot as any.  Gabriel shrugged out of his jacket before running his hands beneath yours and pushing it over your shoulders.  You let it drop to the ground, eyes riveted as he tugged his shirt over his head. His skin looked flawless in the moonlight filtering in through the windows, your gaze trailing up his lean, defined frame to the tousled, tawny locks hanging down around his face.   _

 

**_Perfection_ ** _ you thought, and the air left the room in a sudden rush.   _

 

“I needed some air,”   It wasn’t a total lie. It just wasn’t the  _ only  _ thing you had needed.  

 

_ Strike two _ Bobby’s face said as he gave you a long look.  

 

“ _ Different  _ air?” He asked skeptically.  You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, doing your best to ignore the way he stared.  You knew he didn’t have a clue about anything, or else he’d be confronting you.

 

“I just…”  You fumbled for a better explanation, one that didn’t cross the careful lines you were trying to maintain between keeping him in the dark and outright lying to him.  The latter didn’t sit well with you, but you had nothing else to offer him this morning. 

 

Except maybe some of your whiskey, and there was no way  _ that  _ was happening.  

 

“... needed some air,” you repeated, taking another sip and finally glancing up at him.  You aimed for neutrality, hoping you could suppress how guarded you really were.

 

“One of these days, kid, you’re going to tell me what that means,” he said, finally letting the issue drop.   

 

_ “One of these days, we’re finding a bed,” you insisted, your hands gripping the sides of the bookcase as you all but prayed the thing didn’t collapse on you.   _

 

_ Gabriel had ravaged the thing, sending pieces shattering in every direction in his haste before hoisting you up on the highest shelf left, ensuring he had a place to ravish  _ **_you_ ** _.  The setup was far from sturdy, the entire frame creaking and wiggling with every movement.  You did your best to stay still as he buried his head between your thighs, whereas he tried his damndest to get you to writhe as much as possible.   _

 

_ “God, you’re such an ass,” you moaned, your feet digging into his back to keep your hips from rocking into his face.  You wished you could have the same effect on him, that you could make him dance to whatever tune you created, from fast-paced to slow to everything in between.  Yet, it was always him playing your body while you simply went along with whatever symphony he orchestrated.  _

 

You wished you could tell him now.   You wished Bobby could understand that you left the walls of the camp because there wasn’t enough inside of them anymore.  Only he wouldn’t. 

 

His first reaction would be to make sure you weren’t bewitched.  Once convinced your mind had not been compromised, he’d move on to coercion, insisting there must be something the angel was holding over you.  It would take him some time for his denial to wear off, but once it did, then he’d think you were a silly little girl in way over her head.

 

Or a complete  _ dumbass _ .

 

You weren’t sure which would be worse.  

 

“So… I can only imagine what you want to talk about,” he began.  “We got angel attacks getting closer by the day. Outposts being discovered and overrun.  They’ve fractured our communication lines with the outermost colonies. There’s that damn flu making its rounds, the fact that our last four supply runs came up all but empty, and I’m sure if we looked hard enough, we could even find a spy or two…” 

 

In other words, you better not be there to waste his time.  

 

“Subtle,” you remarked.  “And while I understand you, and the others, have very important things to worry about, I would hope the happiness of your people would be among them.”

 

His eyes swung to you, hard and measured.  This wasn’t the first time you’d picked this battle, and he wasn’t any more thrilled to be doing it than you were. 

 

“Hate to say it, but it’s the apocalypse.  Nobody’s  _ supposed _ to be happy.”  

 

You knew you were walking a fine line.  You understood his priorities. He and the other leaders had an overwhelming burden to shoulder, but sometimes they lost sight of the things that went beyond crises and survival.

 

“Should I quote you on that?” 

 

You could practically feel the burn of his stare searing through the side of your head.  

 

“We’re doing the best we can with what we have.”   _ End of discussion _ .  

 

You hated when he tried to shut you down, like you were still some naive child with no idea what life was like beyond the walls.  

 

“Are we?”  You demanded.  At best, the place was a refugee camp, rather than the rebuilding of civilization they claimed.  Everything about it screamed temporary. Many of the structures remained open. Only the sick, injured, and most vulnerable were afforded four walls and a roof.  The rest of you made do with improvised lean-tos and tied down canvas, and even you had to admit to feeling a little salty that some of your supplies saw better quarters than the rest of you.  

 

You made do because you  _ had _ to.  Because three figureheads was enough to keep a pulse on the entire place, but not nearly enough to keep ushering people forward.  Even with your help, with Wes’ and a handful of others, the tide had grown stagnant over the last several months. People were drowning, and nothing good ever came from feeling like one’s head was trapped beneath the water while the surface drifted further and further away.

 

The only reason you weren’t losing  _ your _ mind was because you had an archangel that had no problem helping you misplace it.  

 

_ Fuck, he was  _ **_so_ ** _ good at this.  That tongue of his knew just how to move, just how much pressure to use, just what pace to set to get you to unravel.  His fingers moved within you, and they, too, knew exactly when to curl and hit that sweet spot. You’d never known any man to pay this much attention to what you liked, and you wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that he wasn’t one. _

 

_ He tried to draw it out for you, bringing you right to the brink before easing you back again.  It was amazing and agonizing all at once.  _

 

_ “Gabriel,” you pleaded, hands raking through his hair, nails scraping across his scalp as another wave of pleasure rolled through you.  You rocked yourself forward, ignoring the precarious groaning of the wood, unable to see past anything but an increasingly blinding need for him to pull that final stitch and let you come undone.   _

 

_ “Sing for me my little songbird,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky with arousal.   _

 

_ “Can’t,” you panted.  It was risky enough just being there with him.  You didn’t need some half-cocked night patrol bursting in because the archangel needed his ego stroked.   _

 

_ Refusing him was clearly a challenge, his fingertips stroking your g-spot with more vigor.  Your head dropped back against the wall, a half-strangled moan catching in your throat. _

 

_ “Gabriel—“” your argument cut short with a whine as he all but stopped, his touch slow, feather-light -- maddening -- and you watched as your release slipped away once again.    _

 

_ “You will sing,” he insisted, his face breaking away from your sex to nibble tantalizingly along your inner thigh.  “Even if it takes me all night to convince you to…” _

 

“I have all day to talk,” you reminded Bobby.  “Do you?” 

 

You glanced back down at the activity below, taking another long pull from your mug.  You let the liquid roll around in your mouth, savoring the taste, allowing him time to decide how he wanted this to play out.  

 

“If you got a point, then  _ make it _ .”  

 

You nodded, but said nothing, eyes riveted to the instructional building where all the kids spent their days learning  _ useful _ things.  Trades. Survival skills.  Tactical strategies. How to properly handle an angel blade.  

 

“Listen,” he rounded, patience reaching its limit in the steady flush creeping up his neck.  “We got five graves that need to be dug this morning, so I suggest --”

 

You held up a finger to him, cutting him off.  “Just a moment.” 

 

A few seconds later, a set of doors swung open and everyone between the ages of six and sixteen came filing out.  Gaunt faces peered out from beneath worn and weathered layers, bodies shuffling obediently to the area a handful of adults were shepherding them.  This was their time to take a break from their studies, to be children, and yet, nothing about their movements suggested they were. 

 

There were no bursts of laughter, no lighthearted giggles or shouts, no excitement to be free from such menial tasks.  There wasn’t an ounce of playfulness within the group, only solemnity and silence that was mirrored by the adults overseeing them.  

 

“What do you see down there?”  You questioned. 

 

Bobby was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot.  

 

“Point made,” he conceded.  “Some days it’s like half of them already think they’re dead.”  

 

“Can you blame them?”  You made a wide sweeping gesture to the entire grounds.  Everything had a purpose, a function, just like everyone in the colony had a role.  Some days it felt like you were all just cogs in one big machine that did nothing but demand you keep running regardless of all the death and discomfort.  

 

“It may not be paradise, but it’s the best we can do.”  

 

“Is it?”  You pressed, unwilling to let the same cliche arguments drive the conversation.  “They need a way to let off steam. Some form of entertainment, an escape,  _ something _ .” 

 

“I’ll get right on putting in a jungle gym after I bury our dead and explain to  _ their  _ children why their parents died from something a few Tylenol could have fixed.”  Sarcasm bled heavily into his words, and you could tell you were losing him. “You want to help these people?  Find us some medical supplies. Build us a clinic that doesn’t kill as many people as it helps because we can’t sanitize it properly.  Guarantee us one god damn supply run that doesn’t end with somebody not coming home!”

 

He had a valid point, but it only strengthened your argument that much more.  

 

“I’m not saying we ignore those things.  What I’m suggesting is we don’t overlook them.  Lift the sanctions on what people can bring back,” you insisted.  “Simple things like books, magazines,  _ porn _ .”

 

Actual liquor so you didn’t have to drink things that tasted like they were one bad batch away from blinding you.  

 

_ Stars overlaid your vision, though it wasn’t quite how you anticipated.  The bookshelf emitted a final, dying groan before giving beneath your weight.  Gabriel lunged forward, pinning you to the frame with such speed that your head slammed unceremoniously back against it.   _

 

_ “Shit,” he muttered, fingers hastily tapping the side of your head.  “Don’t check out on me yet, sweetheart.”  _

 

_ The ache in your skull immediately faded, and he waited for you to lock your legs around his waist before shifting your weight entirely onto him.   _

 

_ “Can we do things my way for once?”  You asked as he moved you both away from the new pile of kindling.   _

 

_ He made a non-committal noise, turning to assess what other options were available for you both to get back to business.   _

 

_ “You know, where we don’t break anything,  _ **_myself_ ** _ included?” _

 

_ “Ha, ha, chuckles.”  Sarcasm dripped from his words, though gold was more heated than anything when it pinned you beneath a look.  “I have yet to hear any complaints.”  _

 

_ That’s because you knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.   _

 

_ “Unless…”  He prompted, almost daring you to say something to contrary.   _

 

_ “No complaints,” you confirmed, stepping down to the floor.  “Though it would be nice if you let me lead for a change.”  _

 

_ He was always the one calling the shots.  For once, you wanted to be the one in charge.   _

 

_ Your hands smoothed up his chest before nudging him backward, and his brow shot up in a clashing combination of warning and curiosity.  He allowed you to guide him toward the center of the room until something pushed into the back of his thighs. You reached behind him, ripping a sheet off an old, worn desk before playfully shoving him on top of it.   _

 

_ “Permission to climb aboard the Gabriel Express?” _

 

_He rolled his eyes so hard he must have pulled something, but there was no mistaking the twitch of his lips or the way some of the_ _darkness receded from his eyes._

 

“Do you actually have anything important to discuss, or are we planning to ride the unicorn and sparkles train straight into the station?”  Bobby demanded after you went another heated round with each other. 

 

The knuckles around your mug turned white, and you realized no amount of good whiskey was going to let you keep your cool with him today.  

 

It was like talking to a brick wall.  Nothing you said made a difference, but you forged ahead, unwilling to let it drop this time.  The more you debated, the more you realized the only common ground between you was the sheer stubbornness you both possessed.  Any minute now, a bell was going to go off and you were going to be ushered into your separate corners. 

 

That, or one of you was simply going to murder the other one. 

 

“What's the point of living if all we're going to do is survive?!” You shouted, your control dissolving as your words echoed across the valley.  

 

_ One day you were going to make him lose control, but tonight was not that night. _

 

_ He wouldn’t, or couldn’t, give it up, his hand tight in your hair, baring your throat when he wanted it, dragging your mouth back to him on a whim, keeping your lips locked tight until you thought you might suffocate beneath his hunger.   _

 

_ He let you set the pace, but the way he sat stock still beneath you resonated as more of a power move.   _ **_Be careful what you wish for, sweets,_ ** _ that smirk of his whispered as he made you do all the work.   _

 

_ You took it as a challenge, doing everything you could to make him regret that decision, whether it was rising up and taking him in at a painfully slow rate or bringing him close to the edge before backing off the same as he had with you.   _

 

_ Bit by bit, he started splintering, the need beneath his hands increasing as he tried to undo you.  You focused on the burning ache of your muscles, refusing to allow him to drag you over the edge yet.  A flush spread through the length of you, sweat breaking out across your skin. Whose resolve would give first, you wondered? _

 

Your face filled with color, less from your outburst and more from the way Bobby looked on the verge of shattering.  

 

“Is that how you feel?”  The quiet uncertainty beneath his words didn’t suit him.   _ He  _ was the one with the unapologetic loud mouth.  He was the one filled with anger and bite. You were supposed to be the one that took the edge off things.

 

“Bobby --”

 

“Don’t  _ Bobby  _ me, young lady.  You tell it to me straight.”  His face was all stern lines and gravity, and you suddenly felt like the time you’d gotten caught beneath the gym bleachers, not only with some boy but the  _ wrong  _ one.  

 

“No,” you told him.  “I don’t because it’s enough that I have people who take care of me.”

 

_ You never knew how often Gabriel had your back.  When you came, screaming his name and clenching so hard on his cock even he couldn’t hold back a cry, someone should have come running.   _

 

_ No one did.   _

 

_ You weren’t in any state of mind to question why, but, unbeknownst to you, he’d undone just enough of the grounds’ warding before you arrived so he could soundproof the building.  He’d never admit to it, and if you ever did ask, he’d simply pass it off to unusually accommodating acoustics.  _

 

_ Had you known, it would have made losing your standoff a little less grating.  Your pride was used to it, though, and begging him to fuck you when your legs began to tremble wasn’t really anything new.   _

 

_ He stilled, hands moving behind your thighs to help you ride out your pleasure exactly the way you wanted.  When you were done, they moved up your backside, helping himself to a generous handful of your curves. He rolled his hips into you, giving slow, lazy thrusts that buried him in you to the hilt. _

 

_ “You should see your face when you come,” he rasped, mouth ravenous along your neck.  That extra something within his presence returned, removing the chill from the air and causing it to swelter. _

 

_ You couldn't imagine the view was as nearly as magical as he made it sound, but who were you to argue with someone that much older than you? _

 

_ “So make me again,” you challenged, emboldened by whatever was causing his energy to spill out so palpably.  Your teeth sank into his lip, drawing it away from his mouth in a wholly uncharacteristic and ungentle way.  _

 

_ He grunted, fingertips digging into your waist before he started pounding away at you in earnest.   _

 

_ And make you come again, he did.  With one leg over his shoulder, then both, and lastly on your back when your legs could barely move, hitting so hard and deep that every thrust was followed by your sharp cries of satisfaction.   _

 

_ When it was finally his turn, his eyes flashed bright with flames of gold, a gutteral noise tearing through him so fiercely the vibrations carried over onto your body.  You yelped as teeth unexpectedly sank into your shoulder so hard you were surprised when there wasn’t any blood. _

 

_ “ _ **_Fuck_ ** _ ,” he growled, collapsing, the weight of his body trapping you against the desk.   _

 

_ Instead of leaving right away, he lingered, leaving himself buried inside of you as your breaths began to slow.  You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, only that it didn’t take long. He never stayed more than a handful of minutes after, and you were glad not to be conscious of it.  Every time left, you felt empty, physically and ways that ran so deep you didn’t want to think about them.  _

 

_ You awoke a handful of hours later to ray of light spilling in through the dusty windows.  You were already dressed and covered in a dusty quilt that could have been tucked away in some obscure box, though you knew it hadn’t, and you might have questioned whether the night had really happened if he hadn’t left a few gifts behind for you to remember it by.    _

 

“But other people aren’t as lucky, and some people just need more.”  You paused, watching two individuals square up against each other over what amounted to a shoulder brush.  “Some people need to get laid or take matters into their own hands.” 

 

Bobby made a face.  “Not much standing in the way of that.”  

 

You fixed him with a look that said  _ there’s plenty _ .  

 

“Books.  Magazines.  Porn,” you repeated.  “Start there, and I guarantee you'll see a difference.”  

 

Shouts rose up from below, and you knew it was only a matter of time before fists started flying.  You frowned, knowing you both should get down there before the two idiots broke each others’ noses again.  

 

“You’d think they’d just learn their lesson and steer clear of each other,” he sighed, as tired of their antics as you were.   

 

You smirked.  “Maybe they would if they had some Playboys.”

 

He winced.  “For the love of anything good left in this world, can we  _ please  _ stop talking about porn.”  

 

You stepped back, attempting to hide your mirth as you took one last sip from your cup.  You turned to head down the path, but before you could, he grabbed you by the arm. 

 

“You’d tell me if you ever felt that way, right?”  Blue eyes pinned you beneath  _ the look _ , the one reserved to scare the shit out of anyone dumb enough to mess with you, and these rare moments in which he needed you to believe he actually  _ could  _ see through you so you wouldn't lie.  

 

You slipped your hand into your pocket, an ache flaring across your shoulder as fingers came in contact with something.  The lining to your jacket muffled the sound of the crinkling wrapper as your thumb skinned over the nearly whole chocolate bar, pausing to worry over the small indent where a piece was missing.  It brought a smile to your face as much as much as the bruise and warm whiskey in your belly. 

“Don’t worry, dad,” you assured him.  “I’ll be just fine.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
